Give me a break! Well yes, I will

The other month, I had an interesting time with busy-ness and quietness. I’ve been reflecting on it and mulling over this post ever since.  Having been wondering if I’d been overdoing it yesterday, I realised it was time to post this out into the world.

I had had quite a busy week, with one big project and lots of small to medium ones. It involved a lot of juggling, one late night, and a Thursday when I hammered through lots and lots of bits and bobs, to the possible consternation of onlookers. I even had to turn down some work (new work, so as not to let down my current clients) and deflect some other work to my trusty emergency support proofreader, Linda (thanks, again, Linda). Matthew had to cook dinner for an invisible girlfriend, only briefly seen foraging for food and tea …

But I am getting better at taking breaks, honestly. So when it got to the Friday and I’d got through the bits of work I had deadlines for, I then had a lovely long extended lunch break with a friend and her small daughter in the park, and a good long trip to the gym in the early evening, before stopping work for the day. At the weekend, I worked around the rest of my life, working on projects early and when Matthew was out or wanted to watch TV. I even had a good long read in bed after breakfast on Saturday.

The post I wrote about presenteeism has helped me here: I realised that I posted a lot about working on social media, and was perhaps thinking too much about how much I work. I haven’t scaled down what I do, but I’ve been aware of not taking too much on, and have obviously become better at scheduling things in and knowing how long jobs are likely to help. Keeping my reading journal on this blog has helped me to be more aware of making time for reading, and I make an effort to have time for friends and Matthew.

I feel like I’m getting it more right. I look after myself in the busy spells (and can usually predict them so I can work up to them and come to them healthy and relaxed) and don’t panic in the quiet spells, taking that time to have some time out and enjoy myself.

I managed pretty well in the Olympics, watching most of the sport I wanted to see, and fitting my work around it. And I had a holiday in a place without reliable wi-fi at the end of August, and survived, just about, having pre-warned my regular customers that I wouldn’t be very available, and managing to relax about the whole thing.

As it comes up to a year since I left my library job and stopped trying to fit two jobs and the rest of everything into one life, I think I’m getting there with getting the balance. And I’ve also been refining my customer base a bit, which is something for another post.

If you work for yourself, how are you managing with this aspect? Do share!

Book reviews – Green Grass of Wyoming, The Bolter, Duane’s Depressed and Meet Me In Mozambique

The last of my October reads – I really didn’t read much in October! I’m not sure why – I have had some busy work weeks but had some quiet ones in October, too. I know I got on with some quite big books, and I caught up with my Mag Lag too … Anyway, here are three reads and one DNF …

Mary O’Hara – “Green Grass of Wyoming”

(1980s)

Ken is 16 now and his brother Howard is off to West Point. Ranch finances have improved thanks to the sheep and cattle, and Nell has her extension and furnace, but the prize bull is terrifying and Nell s having horrible premonitions and feels ill. Thunderhead has got out of the secret valley and is stealing mares to set up a new herd, and when he comes across a prize racehorse filly, Ken gets to meet her owner, Carey, and it’s love at first sight. But Carey has an overbearing grandmother, Jewel can’t be found, and Ken and Howard find themselves squaring up as rivals. The romance, which I loved during my teenage reads of this book, seems a bit rushed and naive now, but Nell’s struggles are heartbreaking. I could go on and on reading about this family and their horses, but this is the last one … Really glad I have re-read them all over the past few months, though.

I seem to have last read this along with the others in the series in July 2000 (interestingly close to my readings of the Larry McMurtry Thalia series): here’s my review from then:

“The characters from the previous books, people and horses, grow up and face more challenges. More overtly Christian than the earlier books, and with a new love interest, but still the same excellent, spellbinding stories and characters.”

Frances Osborne – “The Bolter”

(26 January 2012)

Another from my great Stratford charity shop haul, and a Virago, too.

The story of the author’s naughty great-grandmother, by what I realised is Tory Chancellor, George Osborne’s wife (sorry – that put me off a bit!). All the tales of wild goings-on were competently enough told with the right amount of detail, but the fact remains that it’s all pretty sordid, and while it’s obviously good to be a strong woman in charge of your destiny, it’s all a bit shallow and nasty, and Idina actually comes across as pretty weak and needy, but all sympathy is geared towards Idina and her awful behaviour. You can’t help remembering, too, that behaviour condoned in the very rich is castigated in the poorer levels of society …

Larry McMurtry – “Duane’s Depressed”

(11 April 2000)

Third in the original Thalia trilogy, being re-read before I get to books 4 and 5, purchased recently, and more wonderful realistic McMurtry. Duane gives up his pick-up truck and starts walking everywhere, for no apparent reason, then living in a shack on his property. There is lots of satisfying detail about how he arranges things, but the local community and his family proclaim his depression. There is a general improvement in the family, however, as everyone pulls their socks up, although golden boy, Sonny, from The Last Picture Show is actually in more of a decline. A great description of psychoanalysis and – separately – the redeeming quality of gardening. McMurtry pulls a shocker with one beloved main character, but it’s mainly great to be back wallowing in the world of Thalia.

This is the one out of the three that I’d only read once, and I didn’t remember much of it at all. Oddly, I don’t seem to have recorded a review of my first read, even though I mention it in a review of “The Last Picture Show” in 2000.

E. A. Markham – “Meet me in Mozambique”

(29 September 2012)

I wanted to like this, especially as I had found the other two books in the trilogy in January via BookCrossing and bought this second hand so I had the first one, and it is about returning Caribbean immigrants, which is right up my street, but I just could not engage with it for some reason, and gave up.

But … how CAN I be ill?

I have been asked before “What do you do if you’re ill?” And then I WAS ill, last week. Just a cold, but not very nice.

Obviously I don’t get paid sick days, being self-employed (I have looked into this, with the help of ace accountant, Emily Coltman, from Freeagent and discovered that there is a similar thing to Statutory Sick Pay that you can claim if you’re self-employed). But the odd day or two just get dealt with, basically. Anyway, here’s how I cope with being ill and being self-employed.

Don’t get ill

This is the main one. And it’s not an admonition or a command: it should really read “I don’t get ill”. I had one cold in December 2011 and I’ve had one in September 2012. I honestly don’t recall any in between. The reason must be that I don’t work in an office any more. When I did, I was very careful about not coming in on the first day of an illness, and covering myself liberally with alcohol gel stuff before touching any handles, paperwork, etc. But not everybody was, and so while I didn’t pass all of my bugs on, I certainly caught everything going (once I famously came back from a flu bug only to catch a stomach bug, immediately). Add to that working on a campus full of students from all over the country, and world, or, before that, commuting on the Tube, and there you have it. Now I live in my little home office bubble, and there’s only M to catch things from …

Don’t work through it

When I was employed, if I felt unwell, I’d take the first day of illness off, stay in bed, and would recover much more quickly from the same bug than people who dragged themselves in. Last Christmas, I didn’t do that. I had a fair bit of work on, but I’m sure I could have shuffled it around. But I didn’t, and I was ill for longer than M, who had the same thing but was on holiday from work so not dragging himself anywhere. This time around, I took the first bad day pretty well off, just covering a small bit of work that needed doing urgently. M has dragged himself in with the same bug – and I’m getting over it more quickly.

Do work through it

Well, sometimes there are deadlines that have to be met. But I followed these rules this time, and aim to again:

• Just do what has to be done. No extras. No blog posts. No spreadsheets, just the work that must be done, then stop
• Do it at the best time for me – after a decent lunch with some lucozade and painkillers in my case
• Be kind to myself: it will take longer to do than normal, and that’s fine

This way, I’ve got what needs to be done, done, but have got enough rest, too.

Have back-up

This luckily hasn’t applied this time, but back in the summer I had a somewhat spectacular reaction to an immunisation. Luckily for my clients, I had heroic Linda all set up – literally as a  named back-up for some regulars, but available to have one-off work passed to her, too. There was no way I could work that day, so I let the regulars know to send work to her, and batted any enquiries over to her, too. No loss of professionalism there!

I hope this has helped clear up this mystery. If you’re a self-employed person, how do you cope when you’re ill?

Important stuff for women

  I was waiting to work out how to pin this onto my topics of working full time, book reviews, e-books or research*. I was trying to work out how the subject area might particularly apply to freelancers, or researchers, or health. But then I thought: what do I do all this for? Helping people. And by talking about this subject, we might be able to help some people. So I’m going to write about it anyway.

Let me introduce you to Anita and Lucy. I came across them in a guest post they did on Alistair Campbell’s blog. He’s well known for being open and honest about – and campaigning about the treatment of – alcoholism and mental health issues. They’re the Soberistas. Alistair, Anita and Lucy have all struggled with alcohol abuse; all of them have kicked the habit; they’re talking about it, and they’re doing something about it, too. That’s the key.

Anita and Lucy have started off by talking about their own battles with alcoholism and are doing so in a straightforward, honest way, with not an ounce of self pity. That’s pretty brave, in my book. Let’s face it, we all know or knew someone who drinks too much; maybe we’ve even been there  ourselves. I know I had a dodgy phase in my 20s where I was in the pub most evenings with colleagues, trying to deal with a difficult work situation by drowning it in alcohol. Luckily I have always been too paranoid about only having myself to fall back on to slip into any addictions, but it’s so easily done. And, like the Soberistas say, there’s an acceptance of middle-class women knocking back bottles of good wine that is rather different to attitudes to a “typical” alcoholic with his bench and meths.

Having fought their own battles, these women then took a good, hard look at how they might have been helped. They were not keen on AA – and while I know that is a great help to many, why shouldn’t people have as many options as possible? And they’ve come up with the idea of the Soberistas website, which will be an online community, a bit like Mumsnet, to support women who are having issues with alcohol.

Soberistas proper will launch in November. I’d recommend following their blog, their Facebook page and/or their Twitter feed – and if you are able, in any way, to give them a bit of support, whether that’s talking about them, sharing this post, inviting them to do a guest blog post, pointing them to resources and resources to them, please do so. I’ve not been asked to do this; I’m certainly not being paid to, but like the other selected causes I support, I think this is a good one and worth a bit of our time and effort. Please join me in wishing the Soberistas well in their laudable campaign.

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*There is a tenuous link. I found out about these brave and inspiring women from an interview on Alistair Campbell’s blog. I wouldn’t have been subscribed to his blog had I not found out what a jolly decent chap he is when I reviewed his book, “The Happy Depressive”. Oh, and Iris Murdoch’s conception of the Good in her novels centres on being actively good and helping others. So it does tie into my main interests on this blog, really!

Iris Murdoch Society Conference – Kingston, 14-15 September 2012

I’ve decided to move all my Iris Murdoch stuff over to this blog, so look out for more news on my research project coming soon. But first, let me tell you about my wonderful two days at the Iris Murdoch Society Conference.  At the 5th Conference in 2010, I’d told people about my project reading all of IM’s novels in chronological order, and at this one I was presenting a paper on the research project that has come out of it – so there was a lot riding on this one, but I was looking forward to immersing myself in a Murdochian world for a couple of days, too.

Getting there

I got up at 4am – reminiscent of my trip to see the Olympic marathon!) and was safely on the 5:50 train from New Street station. It was one of those Pendolinos, so it took almost no time and there I was at London Euston. I’d chatted to a chap who was going to a trade show on the way down, so no chance to fret about my paper. I was in London by 7.15, and got the Victoria Line down to Vauxhall. I didn’t love my eight years living in London, but it does come in handy when it comes to knowing how to get around the place! I was in Vauxhall by 7.30 and popped to the overground station, getting a Kingston train at 7.46 and arriving in Kingston at 8.15. Map out, striding down the road, and there I was at the University of Kingston, Penryn Road by 8.35. Not bad for having left the house at 5.00!

As soon as I arrived I saw my friend Pamela behind the book table – she was the person who encouraged me to come to the last one, and we’ve been in touch ever since, so it was lovely to see her again. I set all my stuff down, took a few layers of clothing off (it turns out to be colder in Birmingham at 5:00 am than it is in Kingston at 8:45 after a brisk walk!) and said hello to a few people. A couple of the first people I met were artists, Carolyn Bell and Carol Sommer – Carolyn does marvellous drawings of Murdoch characters, and Carol was in my panel, Oblique Approaches, talking about her art installations (more on that later). I chatted to them and a few other people, and settled in. Oh, and bought a book: “Iris Murdoch: A Literary Life” by Priscilla Martin and Anne Rowe. Well, it was on special offer and I couldn’t have justified it at full price …

Friday morning – plenaries and panels

First up was a welcome from Meg Jensen from the School of Humanities at Kingston, and Anne Rowe, Director of the Centre for Iris Murdoch Studies at the University, who welcomed us on behalf of the Iris Murdoch Society (of which I am, of course, a member). This led straight into a fascinating lecture by Professor Charles Lock on the novelist John Cowper Powys and Iris Murdoch. Cooper Powys wrote his own baggy monsters of novels, which I am now desperate to read, and we learnt a lot about such large, realist novels and IM’s love of Cooper Powys novels, which worked their way into her own. He also shared some memories of knowing IM, which was lovely.

After a tea break, it was time for the first panel sessions. What a nightmare choosing! There were 5, of which only one was a scary philosophy one I couldn’t understand. Pamela and I had decided not to go to each other’s, for fear of making each other nervous (and we have swapped papers now anyway), so I plumped for “The Comfort of Creatures: Animals in Murdoch’s Late Fiction” – and what a good choice that was.

Priscilla Martin started things off with a lovely run through various cats and dogs in the fiction, and their relation to the moral development of the characters. Paul Hullah then basically redeemed Jackson’s Dilemma, the upsetting final novel, for me, with a beautiful poem of IM’s on horses and a talk about the horses in the novel. Beautiful – and really made me feel better about that novel. Marc Keith rounded things off with his first ever conference paper, a well-organised and very enjoyable run through dogs in IM, particularly as an initial step in overcoming one’s Self and moving towards goodness. There were some great questions at the end, too.

Friday afternoon – more panels

Having had a slight panic over the lunch (all sorted out by the excellent conference assistants and redeemed by a lovely young lady in the canteen downstairs) I was getting really tired, and sat quietly with Pamela instead of going to the next plenary – which I feel awful and stupid about, as Anne Chisholm was absolutely lovely when I spoke to her later on, and I had read a fascinating article by her in the Guardian a few days previously. I was worried I wouldn’t have the stamina for the two lots of panels afterwards. And at least this way I did, and I’m glad I did.

The first panel after lunch was on “Chaos and Comedy in Murdoch’s Late Fiction”. I’d already met Josh McCall, one of the presenters, at the tea break, and couldn’t resist the discussion of The Book and the Brotherhood and The Philosopher’s Pupil that was promised. Up first, Tanya Bennet talked about history and the personal being in opposition, and about Jenkin’s scapegoating in the former novel. Donna Gessell talked about the way The Green Knight constantly undermines its own structures with disruptions. Then Josh gave a great paper on the ending of The Philosopher’s Pupil and how it plays havoc with notions of the author/reader/narrator. This book is apparently discussed as a failure – well, I like it a lot, and I saluted Josh for being another person working on his IM projects as side projects to a full, busy other life. We had a nice chat about the Cambridge Latin Course (as you do!) afterwards. Pamela did a great job of chairing this panel – a nerve-wracking undertaking in its own right.

After a short break, more treats, with a shorter, two-person panel. This time I chose “Agents of Power and Morality”, with Michelle Austin, a stalwart Facebook friend of mine, giving an excellent paper on ghostly agents of morality in Jackson’s Dilemma and The Green Knight, with a wonderful mention of Mary Poppins and the strange role of Mir and his “belligerent mysticsim”. Then Adriana Ruta talked about the books being constructed on melodramatic principles, which pull readers in with their appropriation of genre conceits. I was mightily cheered about my own research when I realised that I do understand more about the German reception theorists than I thought I did, and I had some good chats with Adriana about this.

Friday evening – food and drink

After the panel sessions it was time for the wine reception – had some great chats with various people, and met Rivka Isaacson’s (very) small daughter, Netta, properly – the youngest delegate by, oh, 20 years or so! Pamela, Monica from Brazil and I ended up going to Wagamama for our dinner, after popping by my hotel to check me in first (this taking longer than expected because the guy at the reception desk had his arm in a splint and found it hard to write!). I was so tired by the time they dropped me back at my hotel; I had a little catch-up online, thus justifying dragging the small laptop down with me, and a very short read and a chat with Matthew then slept quite well.

Saturday morning – the fear, the fear!

I hadn’t been feeling The Fear too much about my paper, but started to get nervous. What if it had somehow dissolved in my folder and disappeared? (Never mind the fact that I also had it on a pen drive and had emailed it to myself!) I had my breakfast-in-a-box gubbins at the hotel (lots of stuff I shouldn’t eat but I know I can manage this stuff just about, having had it before) and then walked down to the University. I was so nervous by this point that I convinced myself that I’d gone the wrong way when I really hadn’t! Carol and I had a moment of worry but then reassured ourselves. I couldn’t have been with a better panel, with Carol, Rivka and lovely, calm Frances White doing the chairing.

But before we had to face our fear, there was another plenary, this time by Sabina Lovibond, who was talking about whether the Baggy Monsters are “realist” novels. This was very interesting and I was pleased I was managing to follow it all. Then a cup of tea, another trip to the loo, a hot cross bun in case of fainting, and it was time to drag ourselves round to Room 2011 for “Oblique Approaches to the Work of Iris Murdoch”.

I was lucky enough to be up first. Frances introduced us all to an audience of the great and the good – a decent turnout including Chris Boddington, one of the contributors to my research as he’d submitted a review of The Bell for me to look at, as well as Anne Rowe, whose encouragement has meant so much to me. Giving the paper is a bit of a blur. I know I stumbled on occasion but used Marc’s tip of running my finger down the side of the text so I could look up and not lose my place. I know I ad-libbed a bit and got a few more laughs than I’d perhaps expected. People seemed to enjoy it as I ran through my Murdoch-A-Month reading group, the questionnaire I applied to them and their thoughts on the Baggy Monsters, plus some initial findings from my 25 book groups that read The Bell. It was a relief to sit down and know I’d got through it!

Liz presenting – with kind permission of Carolyn Bell

We then had a fascinating presentation from Rivka about synthetic biology and the way it could be brought to bear on the networks in The Book and the Brotherhood, ending with the assertion that arts and sciences are not as far apart as we think. There is always plenty to think about and of interest in Rivka’s presentations, and we were all touched when a Japanese delegate came up to her at the end to shake her hand and tell that he was a neuroscientist! Then Carol Sommer gave what was undoubtedly the coolest paper of the conference, introducing the art works she has made in response to IM’s novels. These were just amazing – text-based pieces with a wry humour that raised chuckles of recognition. I particularly liked her business cards, which included statements by various IM characters on one side, but it was all just marvellous. There are some examples here on her website.  Then it was question time. I got a few, but nothing I couldn’t handle (thank goodness!). Frances’ delightful Mum noted that when first married, they couldn’t afford many books but bought several of IM’s novels from their book club and read them together. Someone asked if I was going to look at the response of male as opposed to female readers – interesting question indeed! Oh, and Carolyn drew a sketch of me presenting, which she kindly photographed and sent over to me!

Saturday afternoon – plenary, goodbyes and hats

What a relief it was to sit down and eat a lovely lunch with all that worry gone. Then it was time for an update from the Archivist, Katie Giles (I always like to go to this one, as an ex-librarian) and a reading from IM’s letters to Philippa Foot, beautifully done by Priscilla Martin, then the last plenary of the day – Philip Hensher on Iris Murdoch as a 1980s writer. This was really well done and interesting, and he raised a point I’d never thought of – having loved IM’s novels as a teenager, he then never thought to discuss them in his English degree. I did exactly the same, but didn’t realise until I heard him talking about it. I bravely asked a question at the end of this one, feeding in to my study of people reading IM for joy rather than study. Then Anne Rowe rounded up the day (mentioning our panel!) and said goodbye.

There was a pub trip, but I thought I’d better get myself across London so I said goodbye to friends new and more established, looking forward to seeing them next time. A quick walk up to the station, then Friday’s journey in reverse. So sad that it was all over – and I was missing the walk in London on the Sunday, as I had too much work to get home for. I had quite a long time at Euston in the end, but got some dinner before getting on the 18:45 train home, getting in at 20:15.

 I remembered to take a photo of myself in a rather Murdochian hat I happen to have, but had forgotten to show Pamela. On the train, with the world whizzing by me. And then I was home, and it was over for another two years.

Final musings

I had such a good time, and it was made better by feeling I had validated myself by having some research to present on. I was also cheered to see how far I’d come with my research in the two years since I mentioned my reading group at the last Conference – I must remember that when I think it’s going slowly. I understood the sessions I attended, asked questions, talked IM, IM, IM with a load of other enthusiasts, and had some time out for me. All good. Roll on the 7th Conference in 2014!

Please note: this blog post is made up of my own impressions only and has no relationship to any formal account of the event which may be put out. I apologise if I have misrepresented anyone’s research or missed anyone out who I met and spoke to!

Back to school …

The autumn is a traditional time of renewal and change for me. Decisions are made, changes are implemented.  In the past I’ve bought a flat (and sold it) and made plans to move in with my partner in the autumn, left jobs and started jobs. Of course I also made the big decision as to when to go full time with Libro last autumn! It always feels like the start of something; not the slow decline into winter, the ageing of the year, but a time of renewal, warmth indoors and frosts outdoors, time in my head, not time with the sun soaking into my skin …

I think this is probably more to do with the UK academic year than anything else. And, in connection with that, this Autumn feels more than a little odd.

I did some pondering about this and I realised that there have been very few years in the 40 I’ve been on this earth so far in which I haven’t had some kind of “back to school” feeling. And yet I don’t have that this year. To break this down …

• 1972-1975 – Too young for school!
• 1975-1992 – At primary then secondary school, then University, then working at the University Library.
• 1993-1995 – No back to school! Working in various jobs
• 1996-2004 – Working at EBSCO. Our renewals period was Sept-Oct each year, so that felt like the start of a new year all over again
• 2005-2011 – Working at the University Library. No, contrary to popular opinion, we didn’t have the summer off, but of course back came the students after the pause of the summer vac, and it all started again …

So that’s, what, 7 years out of 40 when I haven’t been somehow going Back To School in one form or another. No wonder I feel a bit odd!

Back to work

In some ways, this autumn does feel like going “back to” something. We had quite an odd summer, all in all. We had workmen in through the summer, not just lovely Terry the decorator, but a door man and a hedge man. This meant a change to my routine – as I am by default “The one who’s at home” I had to be dressed reasonably normally, able to answer questions, and making decisions on all sorts of things. I had some time off work for the Olympics, but because we had a “real” holiday booked, I couldn’t be as unavailable as I’d have maybe liked to be, so I ended up scrabbling around working between TV viewing, and it wasn’t as satisfactory as it might have been.

Then we DID have our holiday, and that was lovely, and I learned that I CAN have an actual week away from the internet connection (and even phone connection) and Libro wouldn’t dissolve into nothing.

And then I had my Iris Murdoch Conference (more of that later) and now I’m back and starting into the run of working life up to Christmas.

So, what’s changed?

It’s still my time of change and renewal, and I guess it always will be. Fine – some people’s season and renewal is the spring, some the summer (what’s yours?) and mines’ the autumn. In a way, this feels like the start of Libro full time, more than January did. I’ve been able to reflect on the past 9 months, see what’s worked and what hasn’t, and have a think about the way forward.

There are no big changes coming, nothing exciting, nothing shocking. I do know I’ve been working a bit too hard, a few too many hours. Some of that is unavoidable – other people’s deadlines slipping, and crashing into work that’s already been booked in. I’m getting good at batting away all other small new jobs when that kind of thing happens. I’ve also built up a good roster of people to whom I can refer work I don’t have time – or don’t choose – to do, which means I can say “no”, but, crucially, I can say, “But I can give you the name of a person who might be able to help” – and that makes me feel better.

I’m lucky enough to have a good set of regular clients. Over this year, I’ve become more choosy over who I add to my client list – clients I think will become regulars, the kind of work I enjoy doing, the financial aspects that make it worth doing – or with the less well-paid gigs, other factors such as enjoyment of the actual work.  I’m looking at the areas of work I do and paying attention to what I like doing and what I don’t enjoy so much. Some aspects of my work will diminish in importance as a result of this sifting. And I’m glad to have people, as I said, to refer new prospects on to if they come to me. For example, I don’t think I’m going to take on many Master’s coaching students this year. They are interesting to work with, but the unpredictability of the inevitably urgent work makes it hard to plan my week and be able to support the students. Luckily I know a great woman who is brilliant at taking students through their academic year, so off they go to help her build her business!

Autumnal balance

Autumn’s a time of balance, isn’t it. The year on the balance, tipping into the end of the year, towards the depths of winter. So there’s going to be more balance here. Watching those autumn TV programmes with Matthew.  Taking advantage of our new RSPB membership. Spending some time on my research project. Relaxing a bit now I’m half way through the financial year and know how I’m doing …

It might not be back to school for me this year, but it is back to a more balanced life, after a frankly odd summer.  How’s it going for you?

My Olympic Adventure

General marathon view

“What does the Olympics have to do with Libro Full Time project?” I hear you cry. Well, did I not say that a) I was going to be taking time off and sharing the fact that I do; b) the aim of working for myself was to be more flexible? Here’s how this has worked in practice.

I’ve spent the past two weeks working around my Olympic TV viewing. I told my regulars about this plan a couple of months ago, and reminded them more recently. They were told that I would do their work, but it might take a little longer and I might take a little longer to reply to emails. I installed myself on the sofa with my laptop beside me, and managed to work mostly in the early mornings. I did 34 hours the first week (oops) but 17 the second, and managed to see everything I wanted to see.

This all culminated in my decision to take Sunday off and pop down to London for the day. Thanks to Libro, I had the money to afford the travel (and actually it was pretty cheap in the end) and thanks to my understanding clients, no work to feel guilty about. Here’s what I did during my Olympic Adventure …

I got up at 3:30 and my cab arrived at 4:15. I then spent a somewhat uncomfortable half hour at the coach station (it’s near some nightclubs so there were a fair few drunk people popping in and out to use the facilities) and got on the 5:00 coach to London. Here’s a view of the coach station from the coach:

Birmingham coach station

We drove through the dawn; I had meant to sleep but instead watched the sunrise then read a book on my Kindle. The weather and scenery were very pretty.

Sunrise and Kindle

As we got into Golders Green, I started to notice Olympic signage on the lamp posts …

Olympic signs in Golders Green

Olympic lamp post sign in Golders Green

And as we reached central London, I spotted Olympic traffic lanes and bus stop signs.

Park Lane Olympic Lane and signs

Branded hotel on Park Lane

We got into Victoria at about 7:40. I walked up to St James’ Park, noticing more directional signage and the odd Gamesmaker along the way.

Buckingham Palace Road

Buckingham Palace Road helpful sign

Gamesmaker and sign

Up by Buckingham Palace I spotted the Army resplendent on their Boris bikes!

The Army on Boris bikes

The branding was getting more noticeable (as was the lack of apostrophes … )

Buckingham Palace Photographers’ area

… I don’t think this camera would have fitted in there:

Film equipment

… but there was a great atmosphere which continued as I made my way down the side of the park. I loved seeing the runners taking a sneaky detour down the marathon route! And everyone was smiling – police officers, marshalls, other members of the public. I took a few photos of tourists with their cameras!

An ordinary runner on the marathon route

I reached Trafalgar Square just after 8:00, having heard Big Ben chime. A lovely, helpful Gamesmaker pointed out that I would get the best view on the Embankment, which is where I had planned to head anyway. So I walked down to Embankment, reaching it by Hungerford Bridge. I walked along Eastwards for a bit and saw the feeding stations (nicely alphabetized)

Embankment feeding stations

but it was getting sunny already and, after snapping a self-portrait at Cleopatra’s Needle (Matthew and I used to like walking there in our courting days) I headed back for the bridge.

Cleopatra’s Needle

I stayed on the river side, as I’d worked out that the athletes would be running back down towards the finish on our side of the road. So I installed myself by the railings by about 8:15, and as the crowd started to build, I was joined by one lady from Portsmouth way who, like me, had decided to come after watching the Women’s Marathon, and a young German lady who is working in London, saw lots of the events and told me this was a good place at the Women’s Marathon last weekend. I took a picture of us at the end:

My new friends: Val, Liz and Monika – three ladies watching the marathon

We stood and chatted, pointing out flags …

National flags – US, Japan, UK, Venezuela

… watching the Canadian man next to us fashion a chair out of a traffic cone and some cardboard, and the marshal helping a chap pin his Basque flag to the railings (the Basque chap was reading Kate Fox’s “Watching the English” – a nice touch).

Basque man (just seen), Basque flag, Canadian man

The marshals gathered to have their debrief, then spread out around the course.

Marshals meeting

The crowd built on the opposite side and ours, too, I had a sneaky bun, as breakfast was seeming far in the past, and then they were off!

This really was the perfect spot. The first loop the runners took came down towards us then went the other way – but we got a great view of the amazing press vehicle with its serried ranks of photographers

The press were in tiers

… then the amazing camera van (this was from later)

Camera van

… and the camera motorbike

Camera motorbike

Then the first runners whizzed around the corner.

First short lap feat Kiprotich

The “Go Jesper” signs built up on the other side, and we always looked out for the Danish runner as he came past and gave him a special cheer.

Supporting Jesper Faurschou from Denmark

A few minutes, and they were round again. The Gamesmakers had quickly and efficiently moved the mini cones, so the route was clear, and here they came, along the other side of the road, heading for the City. Yes, it’s blurry … but they were going fast!

Marathon blur

And then the longest wait while the race was actually on, as they went round the city and came back down our side. The TV footage shows them doing all manner of exciting things like running through Leadenhall Market. The marshalls were great here, organising Mexican Wave competitions between the two sides of the road. Then they were back! Whizzing past us as we screamed ourselves hoarse for every single runner. They were concentrating, but I bet they could hear us (I hope they could!). They were already quite strung out, with the elite Kenyans and the eventual winner, Kiprotich from Uganda, at the front, favourite, Mutai, a little way back, our plucky chaps a bit further back (and yes, I found myself screaming even louder for them) and then the rest of the field, still elite, the best in their country … but coming last in a small field like this is very obvious.

Chasers including Kiprotich

But do you know what? The crowd cheered more loudly for those at the back than for anyone else. I cheered for my compatriots, for people from countries where I have clients, like Russia, Finland and Poland, for those where I have friends, like Australia and, for those where I love the country – fitting in Tunisia – and everyone else!

Overall!

Runners including Finland

It was amazing. The pics with them running to the left used no zoom. We could have reached out and touched them. It was astounding, beautiful, and so heartwarming. I did manage not to cry too much. I took one more set of photos as they came back round, which came out quite well.

Tambwe from France DNF and Tebulo from Malawi 44th with PB

Pak North Korea and Czech runner

Then I put the camera away and just enjoyed the moment. The countries. The battles. The striving. The Greek guy who waved and smiled as he did his last lap, and got an even bigger cheer.

They went up and back past us three times in total, so we saw the runners seven times. Thank you, Trafalgar Square Gamesmaker! And we watched them to the end. Well, we thought Timor Leste was at the end, but then as I said goodbye to my new friends (the German girl was off to the Modern Pentathlon for the afternoon), I realised that the chap from Lesotho was still going, so stopped to cheer him, and to take a picture of a marshal who’s been in the country for a year and a Dutch tourist who had made friends. I then walked east until I got up onto the Strand and popped in on a favourite restaurant, Sofra, for lunch.

Sofra vegetarian healthy meal

Then it was time to walk to Charing Cross and get the Bakerloo line to Marylebone. Even on the Tube, there were directions and signs.

Charing Cross tube

I got to Marylebone in good time for my 16:00 train. And I couldn’t help chatting to a Gamesmaker who sat down beside me. Yvette had been doing action replays for the Taekwondo, and was off to the Paralympics to do IT, too. I thanked her, as I tried to thank all the Gamesmakers I came across, who were unfailingly cheery and polite, and took her photo, with permission. A perfect end to a wonderful day, I thought.

Yvette the Gamesmaker

But there’s more! My train was announced, and I headed for the platform, only to see a lady walking along with an Olympic-branded box and a large case. Drawing up alongside her I realised it was my old University friend, Alison, who is a qualified track judge and had spent the previous week and a half in the photo finish booth at the main stadium.

Alison the track judge

On the train with us was a chap who’d been a Gamesmaker in the stadium, and a woman and her daughter who’d been at the stadium on Thursday, so there was much chatting and explaining. I said I’d put this bit from Alison into this post: “Can I just say thanks to all the Gamesmakers wherever they were working and a huge thanks to all the athletics officials? I’m sure the hotel staff think we are all mad… we probably are!” Alison got off at Bicester, met by her husband and small son: bye bye, Alison …

Bye bye Alison

And I continued to Birmingham, talking about urban design and food sustainability, as you do; quite tired but what a wonderful day. Here I am going past the Coach Station at 18:15, a mere 13 or so hours after I left it …

Digbeth coach station

I can honestly say that this was one of the best days of my life. London was amazing – very un-Londony, relaxed, friendly and smiling. I am so glad I experienced the Games for myself and at an event I love already, and for free! I watched some of it back on the TV then the closing ceremony with all its patchiness, but it was still an experience shared with much of the rest of the nation and much of it brought a tear to my eye, especially the thanks to the volunteers. Well done, Seb Coe, well done Gamesmakers and track judges, and thank you for an amazing experience.

Paper is sometimes best

Sometimes paper is best!

I was looking at the Society for Editors and Proofreaders website and musing about how I almost never do work on paper manuscripts (once in well over 500 jobs), and then the doorbell rang and my new to do list stationery had arrived … so that’s one thing where I do stick with paper.

Well, one of two things.

With my to do lists, I have flirted with Google Calendar / Tasks and I do put meetings, events and appointments like Skype chats or phone calls in there. But all through my working life, I have had a paper to do list, and, you know what? That’s what I like to have. I had been using one of my few Libro notepads to keep it, but I’ve now bought a special book – appointments on the left hand page and Things To Do Today (why is that capitalised when the name of the book is all lower case, though?) on the right. With tick boxes and everything. There is also room for notes, which is handy for those phone calls.

The other thing I keep on paper is my customer records. Not entirely: I keep a note of people’s pricing and other terms on their contact details in my gmail account. As I do work for people, I either create an invoice for that piece of work, including details of the time spent or word count, depending on how I invoice them, or add the project to their current monthly invoice But I have an A4 spiral bound book with a section for each major client and one for one-off/student clients.  This is where I note down the date, time, word count and charge for each job I do.

I like writing. I like pen and paper. I like using fountain pens with different colour inks. I might do all my editing, proofreading, writing and transcription on the computer, and I might have an online book review blog; I might even have a Kindle … but when it comes down to it, I read real books too (mostly, actually), write my book reviews in a nice notebook first, and keep paper records and to do lists.

You don’t have to do what is most up to date and modern. Everything doesn’t have to be In The Cloud. Do what you feel comfortable with!

The First Six Months

Wow – the end of June on Saturday marked the end of my first six months running Libro full time, with no safety net of an office job (but plenty of safety nets in terms of savings and experience!).

I thought I should mark this in some way, so I’ve changed the photo on my Facebook page to give myself some flowers, and I’m writing this to review the past six months. Has it gone as expected? Has anything surprised me? Am I actually doing OK? Am I happier? Am I enjoying myself? What have I learned?

Has it gone as expected?

In a word: no!

But in a good way. Each time I dropped a day at the office job in 2011 I experienced a small “slump” where the work coming in, and the profit made, dipped a little, just for a month. So I expected a big drop, a fallow period, especially as I had Jury Service to contend with at the beginning of January.

In fact, to tell you the truth, I was quite looking forward to a little rest. I’d actually finished my library job on 12 December and had worked solidly since then, gaining a new client and working over Christmas, including through a cold! But … it didn’t happen. I had obviously gathered a good number of regular customers, and adding a new one into the roster made a big difference. Also, some of my regulars increased the work they sent to me, as I had told them I was more available now, and having more hours available to work made me able to, well, do more.

Basically, the work ramped up right away, and I’ve been working pretty well full-time hours ever since!

Did anything surprise me?

I have to admit that I’m a little surprised that I’m sitting here, working full time on my business, keeping busy and earning well.  I didn’t think I was going to FAIL as such, because I had planned everything out, and by the end of March I knew that I was earning enough to keep myself going. But I’m actually doing better than I’d expected, in terms of busy-ness and in terms of income.

I think I’ve surprised myself with my success – a few years ago, I could never have dreamed I’d be doing this! I’m not being smug about it and it has come with a LOT of hard work, and I should have had the faith in myself not to be surprised at this point …

Have I surprised anyone else, I wonder? Friends who’ve known me for years and newer business friends? I’d love to know!

Am I actually doing OK?

In terms of income, I’m happy to admit that I’m earning more than I have in any other job I’ve had (only a little more than the highest-paying one, but still). And now I’ve got through the double tax year and out the other side with my tax payments safely set aside, knowing what I owe and what I could take home, I am taking home enough to live on and to treat myself (and my patient friends who graciously accepted cheap / badly planned / cheap AND badly planned Christmas and Birthday presents for a few years). I’m not rolling in it, and I have turned into neither Richard Branson nor Mrs Thatcher, but I’m doing well enough to be happy with it.

In terms of clients, I have a fairly full roster of regular clients of various kinds, keeping my work varied, from editing non-fiction and fiction books to transcribing international conferences and journalists’ interviews to localising web and marketing text for all sorts of companies.  My website and blog are getting more hits every month, and I do like looking at those stats!

Physical health wise, I’m eating well and getting to the gym a lot more, walking to meet Matthew after work, etc. Mental health wise I am a lot less stressed and I thrive on working on my own but having virtual colleagues via social media and business contacts and friends via various networking groups. I also have more flexibility and time to see friends and spend time with family.

Another important thing for me is helping people and giving back. I’ve been able to put together some great resources for students, Word users and other small businesses – OK, they bring people to my website, but I also love being able to help people out. My Saturday freelance/small business chats are going well, with a year’s worth done so we’re onto a combo of updates and new interviews. I love being able to showcase other small businesses and share our stories with people thinking about making the leap into self-employment or business ownership. And I’ve been able to help out other businesses and groups at the Social Media Surgeries, etc., too.

Am I happy / enjoying it?

Yes, I am! I’m so much happier and relaxed than I was even before I was working part time and running the business part time. This kind of lifestyle really suits me, and I genuinely enjoy the work. It’s great to be able to use my abilities and stretch myself, and I love knowing I have those regular clients out there and hearing how they are getting on and interacting with people all around the world, from China to Canada.

Specifically related to the full-time aspect of it, I love the fact that I do have more time for other projects, reading, Matthew and friends now. It might not look like it sometimes, but I am working fewer hours compared to when I was employed and self-employed at the same time. And I’ll admit that it’s nice to have a bit of money after a few years of hard saving and being very frugal indeed.

What have I learned?

The most important lessons I’ve learned are …

• Embrace new opportunities, whether that’s new kinds of client, new kinds of work, presenting at training days or whatever
• Don’t worry if it goes a bit quiet: it will pick up again and I can use the time to recharge my batteries
• I can do it – and I must trust in myself and my relationships with my clients that I can
• Eat a lunch made of more than one food group before 2pm and go outside every day and all will stay reasonably well and healthy

Thank you!

I’d just like to put out a big thank you to …

• My clients, regular and one-off
• Those clients who have been able to give me references and recommend me on to new clients (some of you can’t do this owing to NDAs, I know!)
• My readers of both my blogs – whether you comment or not
• The people who have kindly shared posts on Facebook, retweeted on Twitter or even featured me on their own websites and blogs
• My online friends who I’ve never met but are there for good times and bad
• My patient friends – it’s much better now, isn’t it!
• Matthew, for putting up with me, for embracing and celebrating someone who’s changed an awful lot since you met them 11 years ago, and for tech support, of course!

Here’s to the next six months … and onwards!

A weekend with friends old and new

I wanted to record my first proper Whole Weekend Off since I started working for myself full time. I have had the odd couple of days where I haven’t worked, but this was a booked, pre-arranged, weekend away, with no laptop and no work. How exciting!

The impetus for the weekend was the LibraryThing Virago Group. LibraryThing is a place where you can catalogue your book collection, and it has groups to join related to various interests. The Virago Group reads and celebrates books published by Virago Press (especially the classic green-spined ones) and, having had a get together in Reading a month or so ago, we decided to  meet up in Oxford.

I didn’t take many photos on the day, but here are the few I did take.  I have been to Oxford a few times in the past, and have general pictures, so I concentrated on the bits I hadn’t seen (like Magdalen). Ali and I travelled down together with much giggling and book chatting, and met the others at Oxford Station (leading to lots of “does that look like a Virago person?” comments). We’d met Simon and Julie before, Julie had Mary and Helen with her, and then Claire and Luci arrived together, so it all worked well. We then went and toured the Oxfam bookshops and a few others, behaving very well when two of us wanted the same book: “You have it, no, you have it!” I was thrilled to discover that quite a few of us are pony book fans and picked up a Mary Webb novel in Oxfam. The lovely Kerry joined us at this point, having been driven in by her husband. “Husbands?!” we all shrieked, but he sensibly did his own thing and kept safe from the marauding hordes of book hoarders.

After book shopping we had lunch at the Nosebag, a lovely little restaurant next to a shop with a large number of Georgette Heyer novels in stock … Claire kindly gave me a green copy of Stevie Smith’s “The Holiday” – I had one once but managed to mislay it. I’ll be more careful with this one! After that, we went to Magdalen, where Simon is studying for his PhD, so we got the inside story and I started taking some photos.  We had the great treat of tea in the MCR (Middle Common Room – the one for graduate students / postgrads) and a good old chat. A quick trip to the upstairs of Blackwell Books and on …

Then it was on the bus to Verity’s house, where we had a marvellous tea (I should have started this post with the story of my cat eating the original pack of crumpets I’d bought – I did source some completely new ones!) Verity had laid on a spread of wonderful treats, catering to our various dietary requirements and even making shortbread and cake decorations in the shape of the Virago apple logo. There was also a shelf of books to choose from, and I finally laid my hands on a copy of Lolly Willowes.

Kerry’s patient husband kindly drove Ali and me round to our hotel, the Peartree Travelodge, which was fairly nearby but tricky by public transport. We checked in, got some decadent dinner from Waitrose and had a lovely evening of Own Time, reading and, in my case, getting a really early night.

On Sunday, we hadn’t arranged to do anything until lunchtime, so had a leisurely breakfast and more glorious reading time, in which I finished my travel book and got half way through “The Return of the Native”, and then walked the 3 or 4 miles into Oxford. A coffee at the cinema and a slightly panicky hunt for the Pizza Express, then met up with my old University friend, Nick – we graduated 20 years ago this month! We had a good old chat that left Ali and me time for a quick whisk round the shops and a gentle stroll to the train station, where there was time for a cuppa (of course) before the train came in.

What a lovely weekend. I really appreciated having time to do nothing except read. I’m planning to do more of this, but mulling over strategies, so will probably leave that for another post …

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